


I Plan On Sleeping In

by kancake



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Nightmares, Sleep, snugglebros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:02:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kancake/pseuds/kancake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's asleep in no time, and you wonder if maybe, sometimes, you could make this a thing. When it was just too hard to sleep, maybe he'd allow it. If you had the nerve to ask outside of this very moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Plan On Sleeping In

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, everything I touch is named after an irrelevant song.  
> Sleeping In by The Postal Service, which is a good song.
> 
> So I don't like this THAT much but I need to apologize to everyone who follows me on tumblr and had to witness The Worst Night In My Blogs History.  
> So sorry guys!!

You hate these nights.

These night when he tosses and turns and you can't do anything about it. You curl up into a ball in your small pile of blankets on the floor - it was Dave's turn to take the bed. When you graduated high school and moved in together for college, you tried a brief bought of sharing the bed, but you always woke up uncomfortably tangled in each other. You're not really sure if you really minded, but you think he did, so you decided that every other day you'd switch off floor and bed.

Dave let's out some sort of awful, shuddery moan, and you cull up a little tighter, listening to the sound of him shifting.

And then you hear that first sob leave his lips, and you can't. You just simply can not. You can't just leave your best friend like that. You know what he's feeling, you know (a little) what he sees behind his dreaming eyes. If you were having one of those awful dreams, you know you'd want to be woken.

But Dave is different from you. He's stronger than you!

But he went through so much worse, you think....

So you unfurl yourself to crawl up onto the bed and nudge him. He flinches away from you with a gasp like you just stabbed him in the arm. You withdraw for a moment, and he curls in on himself.

Dave is my no means small. He's, like, 6'2" or something! But he's all bony edges that are almost awkward but he holds himself with so much smoothness that it isn't. But like this is different. Dave curling up, softly sobbing, he isn't Mr. Coolkid. He's just Dave Strider. He's just sharp edges, crunching in and falling apart, he's just small, a broken wine glass.

You take him by the shoulders and try to shake him awake, and he lets out a choked sound, weakly shoving against your chest. "Dave!"

"No," he growls out, his voice all Texan twang and gravel, like he's been crying since the day he was born.

"Dave, wake up," you beg in something like a whisper, shaking him, "Dave, please! It's John!"

His eyes suddenly shoot open, staring up at you. You can barely see the red of his irises around how dark the room is and big his pupils are. "John," he chokes out, but pauses to cough before he's wiping off his tears all in a hurry, like he can hide them from you now. "Fuck. What the fuck are you doing on the bed, bro. This isn't how the arrangement works."

You don't even know what feelings you want to express at him, nor how you should go about expressing them, so you just let out a pathetic little whimper. He flinches and mutters "shit" under his breath.

"Dave," you whine, and he's trying to shift away from you a little, "I don't want you to be sad. All alone. I know that it's... I know what it's like!"

"Fuck. Like I think I'm the only one who thinks about it?" He growls, but he turns back towards you. "I know. I know you get them too. And so does Jade, and I bet even Rose behind all that fucking ice. I know. It doesn't feel any less god fucking awful, okay?"

You squirm so your lying next to him and you can curl into his side. You wait for him to push you away with a muttered "wow gay," but it doesn't come. Instead he carefully rolls over so your face is in his chest and he can carefully - really carefully, like he thinks that _you're_ the one made of glass - wraps his arms around you.

For a second you actually consider playfully shoving his chest and giving him a little "wow gay," but you can't find it in yourself.

You don't want to break this moment with words, and even more so you feel like it would break your heart to say them.

You don't want to dwell on it.

You wrap your arms back around his torso and snuggle into him farther. You know tomorrow you'll wake up in a heap of limbs and you're probably going to be awkward, and you're going to skirt around the details. But you're going to wake from a dreamless sleep, and that was worth a year of awkward, one-sided feelings that no one's ever going to talk about.

Oh jeez.

He's asleep in no time, and you wonder if maybe, sometimes, you could make this a thing. When it was just too hard to sleep, maybe he'd allow it. If you had the nerve to ask outside of this very moment.

"I love you, bro," you whisper into his calmly shifting chest. He shifts a little closer to you, but doesn't so much as murmur, so you safely assume he's still asleep.


End file.
